Hope
by Bargain Deal
Summary: Sequel to Mistakes. It's a long road to recovery, but Harry is learning that there just might be light at the end of the tunnel. H/D slash, AU, Eating Disorders, MPreg. DISCONTINUED.
1. Chapter 1

Hello! Sorry this took so long to get up - I completely forgot to write this chapter. Well, at any rate, enjoy! And if you're just joining, and haven't read Mistakes, I recommend you go and do that, because I doubt this story will make any sense if you don't :P

* * *

Harry opened the trunk, checking that everything was in order. It was, just like it had been the four other times he had gone to repack his things, and it would be no matter how many times he unlocked it. He'd wanted to use a suitcase; trying to distance himself from feeling like he was just going back to Hogwarts, but Draco hadn't let him. Had said it was too common. He'd conceded, of course, not wanting to make Draco angry. Even the idea of Draco towering over him again made him want to be sick with fear. And every time he brought up the 'incident', Draco would turn the coldest glare Harry had ever witnessed onto him, and he would drop the subject.

He didn't want to go to Renewal. He didn't want to leave his son behind. Who knew what would happen to Sebastian in his absence? Draco could decide that he didn't want to put up with Harry anymore and leave with the small child, or Oliver could come back and demand custody. Seb could suffer a relapse, even, and Harry wouldn't be here if he… if he died. He'd tried to make others understand this, but they all thought that he was faking, that he was trying to get out of going to the hospital. That there was no way that he could have such an about turn regarding Sebastian, formerly the parasite. Ginny in particular didn't believe a word he said.

Harry didn't know why everyone wanted him to go so much, but he had become resigned to the fact, and was at least able to reassure himself with the fact that the sooner he left, the sooner he would come back. The clinic said that a rehabilitation of at least six months was optimal, but Harry knew he couldn't possibly stay that long. He'd be in and out again in a few weeks, and then he could attempt to reconstruct his life.

Draco came in, cradling a bundled up Seb, and Harry averted his eyes. He kept thinking up ways to leave Draco, but nearly all of them ended up with the realisation that it would result in having Seb taken away from him. Harry knew he was treading on thin ice with regards to his son. Everyone thought of Draco as some kind of hero, forcing Harry to face his problems, and looking after the baby all the while. He hadn't told anyone about what Draco had done to him, and he wasn't planning on it. There was just too much at stake. If Oliver was given even half an opportunity to take Sebastian away from him, Harry was sure that he'd take it.

"Harry, are you ready yet? The carriage is waiting," Draco said, shifting Seb slightly. Harry felt his mouth drop in shock.

"What? I thought we were going by the Night Bus? Are you _trying_ to draw attention to us, or something?" He could see that Draco was barely restraining himself from rolling his eyes.

"Harry, the carriage has a Disillusionment charm on it, of course. And while you may have been labouring under the delusion that the Night Bus is suitable transportation for a small child, I certainly would not let our son travel in that contraption for love nor money." Harry could feel the snarl building up on his lip before he realised that it was futile; that he had to stay on Draco's good side.

"Yes, Draco." Draco's mood change was near instant, and a large smile broke out on his face. Harry hated the mood swings most of all.

"All right then, off we go. Manny!" The head house elf, the one in charge of all things to do with Sebastian and Harry popped into the room. He bowed low, his forehead touching the floor. He spoke well, unlike many of the house elves Harry had met in the Manor. Harry thought it was because he'd been with the family so long, although he wasn't sure.

"Take Master Harry's things to the car. Make sure you leave nothing behind." The house elf nodded, and taking Harry's trunk, popped out again. Harry liked how this one got down to business quickly and efficiently. He'd met one rather insane elf that had prostrated itself at his feet and he'd hated it from

first site. Dobby, wasn't it? At any rate, he'd asked Draco not to let the thing within three feet of him again, and Draco had allowed him to have his way. Harry had been surprised at the time – usually, Draco just told him to get on with things and stop whining. He'd never met someone so _commanding_ in his life, and this was comparing with Aunt Petunia and Hermione, who could certainly win some awards.

When they found their way outside, the bags already loaded onto the carriage, Draco took Harry's hand to help him up into the carriage. He looked rather pleased when Harry, for the first time, allowed him to. Usually, his pride got in the way, but today he just had no strength to argue. He held out his arms when he was seated, and Sebastian, asleep and breathing softly, was placed into them. For the first time that day, Harry smiled, looking down at the tiny features of his son. Pomfrey had only declared him up to long distance apparition the previous week, and Harry couldn't get enough of holding his baby in his arms. Draco smiled at him indulgently, and Harry found himself giving a small quirk of the lip back.

The journey was mostly silent, and the smoothness with which the carriage travelled unnerved Harry enough to speak up.

"Why are we moving so –" Draco interrupted him quickly.

"Don't talk so loudly, Harry. You'll wake Sebastian." Harry felt a sneer build on his lips, which he quickly controlled. No need to give Draco a reason to hurt him again.

"Sorry, Draco." His fiancé nodded.

"I expect the Aethonons are giving us a gentler ride than usual. They're trained to when transporting more delicate persons." Harry nodded, despite having no clue what Aethonons were. Draco must have seen the confusion on his face, for he grinned.

"You don't know what Aethonons are? They're a breed of winged horse, like Abraxans." Harry affected a look of recognition, although he had no idea what Abraxans were either. He resolved to learn more about the Wizarding World, if only to avoid looking like an idiot in front of Draco again. They fell into silence again, and this time, Harry didn't break it.

* * *

So, here he was. Harry didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it certainly wasn't this. Renewal didn't look like a prison. It looked like something out of a dream. The walls were white stone, nearly gleaming in the morning sun, and a sign with the name of the hospital emblazoned across it hung boldly over the double doors; a sun moving round the letters. It looked… nice, and Harry couldn't prevent a smile from forming. He turned towards Draco, not sure what the other boy would be thinking. Draco's face was blank, but Harry had to say that he didn't think Draco disapproved. Well, obviously he didn't, or they wouldn't be here in the first place, but… Sebastian snuffled, and Harry fussed over him, making sure that all his little fingers and toes were covered. It was quite a cold day, and Harry didn't want his son to catch a cold.

As they walked in through the doors, Harry shrank. It had suddenly hit him how _little_ he wanted to be here. He didn't want to be better; there was nothing _wrong_ with him! Feeling nervous, Harry shrank back, attempting to hide behind Draco. Draco was strong – he would be able to… what, protect him? From what? The scary nurses with their plates of food, of course. Harry still couldn't shake the feeling of vulnerability he had, and it was enough to make him nudge Draco.

"Hm?"

"Could you… could you hold Seb for now? I feel a bit weird, and I don't want to risk dropping him." Draco raised an eyebrow, and took Sebastian without a word, leaving Harry's arms feeling bereft. It was just so _wrong_ to have someone else holding him.

They reached the reception, and a witch with bright white teeth looked up at them, asking if they needed assistance. While Draco stated their reason for visiting, Harry took a look around. It didn't _seem_ like a hospital here. There were plush couches and soft fitted carpets; the walls glowed slightly and it just seemed warm and cosy. What Harry did think was weird was the lack of people. He hadn't seen anyone since the receptionist since they got here. Ah, scratch that: there was someone coming up to them right now.

"Misters Malfoy, welcome to Renewal!" Kinder people than Harry would describe her as stately. Harry thought she was far too tall, and had the weight to match. Somewhat like Hagrid in fact, except without the excuse of giant blood. Her dark brown hair was perfectly coiffed, and she wore a pearl necklace and fitted skirt suit. Well, Harry had to admit, she had a good tailor. Every other person he'd seen of her size tried to squeeze themselves into clothes that were far too small and ended up looking like their seams were about to burst.

So absorbed in scrutinising her appearance, Harry paid little attention to the fact that like many other people they'd encountered since the Woods' wedding, they were already both being referred to as Malfoys. Usually, Harry blew up – he wasn't a Malfoy yet, and wouldn't be for quite some time, but recently, he couldn't be bothered to expend the effort. He was going to be a Malfoy eventually, wasn't he? It wasn't as if Draco would let him keep his name.

The woman ushered them into what appeared to be her office, which had pictures of smiling people, whom Harry noticed were primarily female, covering every inch of the wall. The woman, noticing Harry looking around, explained the images as being pictures of the people that Renewal had helped over the years it had been open. Harry nodded, and said nothing. She seemed to take this in her stride. Harry guessed Draco had informed them that he was the 'silent' type. More like the 'my fiancé will kill me if I make him look like a fool in public' type, Harry thought. She sat in her chair, which Harry noted must be very well made, as it didn't even creak at her mass being placed upon it, and beamed at him. Harry stared at her. What was she looking at him like that for?

"In case you didn't catch it, my name is Violet Pepper and well, you need no introduction! Harry, I've heard a lot about you from your friends and family as well as the press. I'd just like to say that we're all very glad to see you here. It's always good to see someone who wants to overcome their problems and get better. Now, you have taken the first step in attempting to get better; I hear that you are no longer refusing food?" Harry cast Draco a glance out of the corner of his eye, but the other was staring at the bundle in his arms, refusing eye contact. It was a sore subject. It was the one thing that Draco could not _command_ Harry to do and have his fiancé give in eventually. Harry was as stubborn on the subject as the first day. He ate when he wanted to, and could not be made to otherwise. It was certainly enough to sustain him for now, but he remained at an unhealthy weight, as the house elves liked to tell him.

To give Pepper credit, she seemed to get the hint. "Ah. Well, no matter, I'm sure that we'll progress to that stage in no time. Well, you'll especially want to get out of here quickly with so much to look forward to," she said, hinting blatantly to the small pile of shifting blankets. Seb started to snuffle, and Harry knew it was only a matter of time before he started wailing. Draco also seemed to sense this, and he excused himself.

"I'll be back in a moment, Harry." And just like that, Draco and Seb were gone, leaving Harry alone with Pepper.

"Harry, I get the feeling that it may not be your decision to be here." Suddenly, the smile had dropped from her face, and she seemed less sycophantic, less annoying.

"I want to be with my son, and everyone says I need to get better first. I'm just here to prove that there's nothing wrong with me, and then I'll be out of your hair, and you can stick a photo of me up on your wall too." There was silence for a moment.

"You're not the first person to be in denial, Harry, and you won't be the last. That's why this hospital exists. Believe it or not, I was like you once upon a time, although it may not seem like it now. It was only when I started getting better that I realised I'd had a problem in the first place. And Harry, until you can admit that to yourself, there's no chance you'll be getting out of here." Harry scrunched his face up tightly, whether to stop himself from crying or from yelling at Pepper, he didn't know. And he was saved from having to by Draco re-entering the room. Instantly, the smile was back on Pepper's face, and Harry held out his arms for his calmed son. While he stroked his baby's hands and laid tiny kisses on his head, Draco and Pepper hashed out his sentence. This place seemed more and more like a prison by the minute.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for my lovely reviews, all of you! I've decided that the chapters for Hope will be no fewer than 2000 words per, so much longer than my average for Mistakes, and there should be somewhere between fifteen to twenty chapters in total, as I've got it all planned out. Enjoy!

* * *

He'd met his very own carer, although she worked with a couple of other residents. Apparently, this was the kind of place where they liked to keep track of your every move, and would never let you be alone. Draco said that it was the quality of the place; that it cost a lot of money to send people here. There had been heavy hinting in that sentence, and Harry hadn't missed it. He _knew_ that Draco was spending a lot on this place, in an attempt to make him 'better'. He knew that while they had a lot of money between them, Draco didn't appreciate spending it on someone who couldn't even admit there was something wrong. And the problem with that was that Harry did not believe there was. At one point, when he was in a dark place, he had, but now, it made sense to him again, just like it had all those months ago. Eat to live, not live to eat. What was wrong with that?

She seemed nice enough, Harry had to admit. She insisted on being called Abigail, and said that she would call him Harry. He just didn't like someone being so familiar with him when he barely knew them. He'd rather be called Mr Malfoy. It wasn't helped by the fact that she was really… bubbly, and a moody Harry preferred everyone around him to be in the same bad humour. His bad mood at being in this place was exacerbated by the fact that he _really_ missed his son right about now. Ever since the incident, he hadn't been able to get enough of being around Seb. It seemed like a complete about turn, and Harry still couldn't believe he'd been able to change his mind so quickly. Had… had he ever _hated_ Seb in the first place?

His room was completely bare, but that would be rectified soon, he'd been told. He had boxes of his possessions, and had been told that he was allowed to decorate his room in any way he saw fit, within reason. No black walls then, he supposed. He'd need a four-poster bed, high quality material, curtains that let light through, thick carpet, the muggle portrait, the walls painted… There was a lot to do, but Harry had been assured that if he left everything here, with instructions on how he wanted it, the house elves would do their job. He was growing to love house elves. They were so useful, and as long as they were well treated and not worked too hard, Harry had no problem with employing them. Hermione didn't like how many Malfoy Manor had, but he'd managed to placate her. After all, a bigger house needed more elves to look after it, didn't it?

After this, Abigail led him to another room, where he finally saw the other residents of Renewal. He'd been told that there were never more than fifteen patients at a time, as the hospital preferred to work with people on a patient to patient basis and the more there were, the harder it became. Harry counted sixteen other people in the room, counting carers and the group leader as well. All eyes went to him instantly, and Harry flushed, looking down. Sad as it may have seemed, he wished he had a friend here to hold his hand. Even… Draco would be nice right about now. The room was quiet as Harry and Abigail took the spare seats, and it wasn't until someone began talking that Harry felt eyes lift off him.

"Alright then! Now that we're all here, I'd like the new members of the group to say something about themselves. Your name, why you're here, a little about your life… Then we'll go around the circle and everyone can do the same so that we all know who we are, then we can have a couple of questions. Who'd like to go first?" Harry kept both his arm and his head stubbornly down. Someone evidently volunteered, and they spoke about themselves. Harry tuned most of this out. When it finally got to his turn, Abigail nudged him, and he looked up to find all eyes on him again.

"Um… I'm Harry Potter, I'm fifteen years old and I'm here because my friends and family want me to get 'better'." He couldn't help the inflection he placed upon the word. "I have a baby son, Sebastian, and I just want to get out of here so I can be with him." He could hear a few 'awws' and his cheeks flushed slightly. Yeah, that had been a sappy thing to say.

"Thank you for sharing that with us, Harry. Now, would everyone like to do the same? Just a little bit about yourself." Again, Harry tuned out. Girl after girl after girl after girl. He really didn't care. But one voice made him look up again. Another boy… He chanced a smile at him, and the other gave him a cold glare.

"Edward Miller. Sixteen. Bulimic. I was formerly the only guy here, although I suppose that one doesn't really count." Harry flushed completely, knowing he was going bright red. Everyone treated him like he was a girl, and he was sick of it! He just wanted to get out of here, but standing up and walking out would just make him look like an idiot. There were laughs at this, and while it was quietened down relatively quickly, Harry was mortified. They were _laughing_ at him…

The question time came around and Harry listened carefully, hoping everyone would leave him alone for now. No such luck.

"My question's for Harry. So, you've got a son." The girl paused for dramatic effect. "What kind of idiot girl would let _you_ get her up the duff?" More laughter, and Harry felt that much more and he would explode. Plus, he _really_ didn't want to think about his pregnancy right now. Abigail knew about the circumstances, it had been in his file, and she reached out a hand to his and squeezed it. He was grateful for the reassurance. A hand was a hand, regardless of whose it was.

"Harry, you don't have to answer that, okay? That was really out of order, and I'll talk to her carer about that." He nodded, and spoke to her, his throat tight.

"Is it okay if I go back to my room? I don't feel very well." Abigail nodded and he stood, his head feeling dizzy. Why were they being so mean to him? What had he done? Harry heard the people in the room being told off, and he closed his eyes tightly to stop the tears from escaping. He really must be effeminate if even complete strangers thought it so. But what could he do about that? He… he was just who he was.

* * *

He'd stayed in his room all day, just staring out of the window, wishing with all his strength that he could go home. He'd written a few letters, but that hadn't taken up much of the day. He'd heard them all come out for lunch, laughing and joking between themselves, but he hadn't wanted to go out and face them. Abigail had brought him in a meal, but she'd had to go and check on another of her charges, and she'd trusted Harry to eat it. Harry, of course, had dumped most of it out of the window into the bushes, and then swirled around the remains so it looked like he'd tried. When Abigail had come back in, she looked frazzled, and her face lit up when she saw the plate. She had beamed at him and Harry had felt bad for a moment, but he knew it was the right thing to have done.

But now it had come to the evening, and Abigail had asked him to come and eat with the rest of the group. He was to be in the no-problem area, as Abigail had told him. Formerly, he was supposed to have gone in the problem eating section, but Abigail said she thought he didn't need to. Harry had smiled at her, but he wasn't sure what was going to happen. If this meant that she wouldn't hover over him, then that was fine by him. Hopefully, someone would refuse to eat, and she'd have to leave him alone in favour of looking after them. He left his room and went down the corridor until he reached the dining hall. Joining the queue, Harry felt weak at the idea of eating a full meal. It wasn't possible... Not that there was anything wrong with him, of course, but food was so _disgusting_. He was served what he expected was a nutritious and filling meal, but looked like slop to him, along with the Strengthening Potion that had been prescribed for him. And then, he had to find somewhere to sit.

There was one table in the problem section, and two for the rest of them. One of those tables was nearly full, with a little space, and one was completely empty. Harry debated going over to the table with people on, hoping that they would be nicer than earlier. Edward, sitting on the populated table, nudged the girl next to him, the same one that had embarrassed him this morning. She looked at him and smirked, and then said something to the whole group, who, to Harry's dismay, moved out to fill the whole space. They'd… excluded him completely. His face burning up again, Harry moved to sit by himself. He saw Abigail look at him worriedly, but he shook his head and dug his fork into a potato, pretending to tuck in. Abigail, having her own issues with coercing the girl she was sitting next to into eating something, was quickly distracted.

Harry was miserable. He hadn't been treated in such a callous manner since living with the Dursleys, and like then, he hadn't even done anything to deserve it. He just didn't understand why everyone was being so horrible to him. And plus, he'd eaten as much as he possibly could. Sure, most of the food on his plate was still there, but he'd drunk a lot of water, and he didn't really have much space… What was he supposed to do? If he had been in his room, he could have thrown it out the window or flushed it, but… Was there a bin nearby? Scanning the room, Harry deduced to his dismay that all the bins were far away from the tables, probably to stop exactly what he was planning on doing. He was frozen. Just when he was thinking of making a break for it, a commotion broke out.

"No! I won't, I won't!" A girl was shrieking over in the problem area, gravy spilling out of the corners of her mouth as she refused to swallow. As Harry watched, she spat it back out onto her plate and began crying. As she cried, Harry noticed people taking the opportunity to slip food into napkins. Even if he could do this, Harry could see that they were working together so as to not make it obvious that they were throwing food away. Being on his own, and far away from the bins, it would be really obvious if he tried to do it himself. And as the girl was taken to her room to calm down, Harry saw that Abigail was coming back over to him. Quickly, he shoved a mouthful in, to make it look as if he were actually enjoying the meal.

"You're not eating too quickly, Harry. Bad day?" He nodded, grateful for any excuse. To be fair, his day _had_ been horrible.

"Yeah, I just feel really lonely right now. I miss my son." He could feel his eyes watering up. Oh, why now of all times? A side effect of the Strengthening Potion was the change it inflicted upon emotions. Harry was quick to tears these days.

"Well, later tonight, I can try and arrange a firecall so you can at least see him. Would you like that?" Harry nodded, although it wasn't the same. He supposed that he'd have to wait until Draco's next visit to hold Sebastian again. And maybe seeing Draco wouldn't be too bad either, at least to reassure him that there were _some_ people that wanted him around.

Abigail's presence made it impossible to not eat, and soon enough, he found that his plate was near empty. His stomach was rolling, and he felt like bolting for the nearest toilet. Squeezing his eyes tight shut, Harry spoke shortly.

"Abigail, please could I go to my room, now? I want to lie down for a bit." Abigail looked sorry for him, but she shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but we insist that everyone stay in the dining or TV rooms for at least an hour before going somewhere else. If we let everyone go their own ways, half of you would be chucking it back up again within five minutes, and the other half would be running around the field trying to work it off." Oh yes. He'd forgotten that they weren't to be trusted. The only thing that kept the sneer off his face was the thought that he had actually been hoping to get rid of his supper in one of the bathrooms. He smiled 

at her, and though it felt wooden on his face, it must have been convincing to her, as she returned it and led him to the TV room, as he still didn't know his way. As he went, Edward grinned at him and gestured to his empty plate. But of course. It was all currently resting in the bin. Lucky him.


	3. Chapter 3

I'd really appreciate it if you would all leave feedback for me. This chapter and the next were the hardest for me to write, and I'd really like to know what others think of it. Well now - on we go!

* * *

Harry had been here for two months, and he was desperate to get out. He was getting fat. He could feel it, the podginess creeping up on him. He knew he was whale sized. His ribs weren't as prominent. His hipbones didn't jut out. His collarbones clearly had a layer of fat over them, and his thighs were _huge_. This he knew for a fact. Looking at himself in the mirror, Harry was disgusted. But what could he _do_? At first, he had been determined to be like the rest, and avoid food like the plague, but then he remembered that he wanted to get out of here… To be with the people he loved again. If he messed about, that would never happen. The last time he had seen Hermione, she had said how excited she was for Harry to come home, as everyone missed him. How could he let them all down by being stuck in here for ages?

He sighed and rubbed his hair with his towel, looking around for the scissors. His ends needed a trim; they had split ends throughout. However, he had to make sure that not too much got cut off or Draco would get pissed off. He said that it was customary for engaged couples to grow their hair to below the shoulders, whether male or female. The problem was that Draco looked handsome and strong with his hair tied back in a ribbon. Harry just looked like a girl. A pretty one, he supposed, but a girl nonetheless. But if that was what his fiancé wanted, that was what his fiancé got. Sighing, Harry opened his wardrobe to bring out a pair of trousers. He'd dress casually today, he decided. With a wardrobe so full of clothes, Harry was spoilt for choice. He hadn't bothered to bring his robes, as the idea of making effort for the residents here made him want to laugh. He hated the way they treated him. No matter how hard he tried to fit in with them, they wouldn't accept it.

Harry didn't care anymore. They could act how they wanted. He sat down on the bed, having picked out something to wear. Left foot into the left leg; right foot into right; stand up;_ pull_ and button The first four steps went fine, but then everything came to a halt. _His trousers wouldn't do up_. Harry could feel his breath catch in his throat and start to speed up. This… couldn't be happening. No, it wasn't right. Yesterday, he'd been able to. It had been a little tight, even sucking in, but he had been able to. Today, he couldn't. Wrestling with the button in front of the mirror, Harry could see the bulges of fat over the top of the waistband, and that was when he stopped. So it wasn't just all in his head. He was so fat he couldn't even fit into his clothes anymore. He was_ disgusting_.

What was the point anymore? What was the point in even _trying_? Why couldn't everyone just _leave him alone?_ If he wanted to eat, he'd eat. If he wanted to starve, he'd starve. If he wanted to look like a boy, he_ would_. Reaching for the scissors, Harry hacked away at the hair that just now brushed his shoulders. He didn't need to follow Draco's stupid traditions. He could do things _his_ way. Harry cut without rhyme or reason, any lock of hair getting in his way being ruthlessly pruned. By the end, he was surrounded by hair, and there was blood on his scalp and hands from where he had stabbed himself with the scissors. So incensed was he; he didn't even notice the pain. At the end, he stared at himself, his breathing still heavy and ragged. As the adrenaline wore off, Harry began to shake, and he ran a quavering hand through his hair, wincing as he hit the sore parts.

At some point, he'd ripped off the trousers, cutting at them too with the scissors. There were red scratches on his legs from where he'd managed to scrape the skin, and they stung bitterly. Harry ignored it, staring blankly into his own eyes. He didn't think he'd ever seen his own eyes so dull. Not since he was pregnant, anyway. He was left in only his boxers, and his room was cold, but he carried on staring. There was a knock on his door that made him flinch slightly, but Harry ignored it. Maybe if he pretended it wasn't happening, the person on the other side would get bored and leave him alone.

"Harry, it's Camilla. Breakfast's ready, so wake up and get dressed." She was one of the nicer ones, but Harry still didn't like her. She would talk to him when Edward and his minions weren't around, but when 

they were, she was just as mean as the rest, making him feel like dirt for their own amusement. So he carried on ignoring her.

"Harry! If you don't come out, I'm coming in." Let her. After a moment's pause, Camilla opened the door and came in talking. "You know, it's really rude to… not…" She trailed off, and Harry could see the look of horror in her eyes as she froze.

"Go away." The girl didn't heed him, and she bent down, stretching an arm out towards his shoulder. The idea of her skin making contact with his repulsed him, and his reaction was instantaneous. He jerked himself away, growling "Don't touch me," at the girl. She backed away, but wasn't deterred, reaching out again. He threw himself sideways and the shock was enough to make him scream "Don't touch me!" once more. Camilla fled the room, and Harry could hear her shouting, and others running into his room. Suddenly everything was crowded, and there were people trying to touch him everywhere. He couldn't get away from all of their hands, and there was screaming – was it him? – And the other patients were crowding in the doorway; he could see Sarah and Camilla and… Edward. For once in his life, Edward looked scared, and it was enough to make Harry smile in his mind. The boy's brown eyes were the last thing he saw before he heard the word that knocked him out.

"Stupefy!"

* * *

Now Harry had _two_ 'incidents' to his name. They'd covered him in his blanket and carried him out to the Infirmary, where he had had his cuts and bruises healed, and his hair sorted out. There were some patches that were shorter than others, though, and Harry refused to let them give him anything to grow it back. He liked it short. Sort of. He'd been given a set of pyjamas (as Harry slept in boxers and a t-shirt), while his new wardrobe was tailored completely from scratch, and he now spent most of his day in them. The others tiptoed around him in some kind of awed silence. By the looks of them, they all thought he'd tried to off himself, which he wouldn't fault them for thinking. He was no longer allowed to have his door closed, and all sharp objects, or ones with the potential to become them had been removed from his room. This meant that his mirror had to go, and this was the one thing he had protested about. When asked why he wanted it so much, Harry had not been willing to share, and he had had, as a result, his mirror taken away.

Right now, he was sitting in front of the TV in the Games room. Having not taken much of it in, he had switched it off. Harry hadn't watched one of these since he left the Dursleys, and none of it made much sense to him. He was bored, and wanted to something to do, but there was nothing, seeing as everyone else had followed Edward off to do something or other. The boy had left him conspicuously alone since that day, and Harry was just waiting for his next move. Surely the boy would stop feeling sorry for him soon and mock him once more. Harry knew it.

And, speaking of the devil, Edward came in with Sarah, the girl that had embarrassed him on his first day, and Abigail, who had been tiptoeing around him like he was made of the same material as his mirror. He suspected that she hadn't realised how messed up he was really. After all, she knew that he'd been pregnant, and given birth, and that it had been difficult for him, but she had no clue about what exactly had gone on.

"Harry, Sarah and Edward have something to say to you." They came over to him where he sat on the sofa, wrapped up in his duvet. Sarah perched on the arm of the seat, and Edward flumped next to him. Harry did not appreciate their close proximity to him, and he looked towards Abigail pleadingly, who smiled softly and left the room. There was an awkward silence until Sarah coughed.

"Look. Harry. I'm sorry about how we've acted towards you. We were just… having fun, and it got a bit out of hand. We didn't mean to make you… like, try to kill yourself." Harry ignored her. What did he care? She'd obviously expected a response, and when she didn't get one, was surprised.

"Well, yeah, anyway, I just felt I needed to say something, because I'm leaving soon and I didn't want to leave on a bad note." After being ignored once more, Sarah left, and Harry was stuck with Edward, who began speaking, evidently not caring whether Harry listened or not.

"So yeah, last week me and Ashleigh were eavesdropping on your visit with that guy." Harry stiffened. "We saw you kiss and she thought it was really cute, but whatever. Then Ashleigh talked to Jade about it, and _she_ said that she'd heard you were engaged, so that was probably him. So, obviously, your kid doesn't have a mum, and it must have taken a lot to give birth. I know I wouldn't be able to." The boy stopped to shudder, and then moved on. "Anyway, I'm basically trying to say that I take back what I said about me being the only guy around. I was just being a jealous arsehole." Harry raised an eyebrow, and was thrown off guard when Edward slung an arm around his shoulder. "So, everything's good right?" The smile on his face was so disarming that Harry felt himself nod before he could stop himself. Edward's smile grew into a grin, and he pushed himself off the seat, reaching a hand down to Harry to help pull him up.

"Come on, Harry. Everyone's outside." So Harry followed, trailing behind Edward in his pyjamas. Maybe… maybe things would get better.

* * *

Harry… finally felt at home here. It had been weird, suddenly adjusting to Edward being so nice to him. But he'd understood it in the end. Edward was mercurial; his moods subject to change at any given moment. Once, he'd thrown a book right at his visiting mother's head, and only a quick Protego had prevented her head from being smashed in. Not five minutes later, he was hugging her goodbye, with tears in his eyes. Another incident had seen him rolling around on the floor screaming as his carer tried to get him to eat dessert, when he'd happily eaten supper half an hour previously. Harry wasn't quite sure whether Edward was all there mentally, but he did know that he considered him a friend now. After seeing many of his fits of jealousy, Harry knew that he'd gotten off quite lightly. It had _not_ been funny what he'd done the previous week to a girl who he accused of losing weight. She'd actually left Renewal to get away from him.

Edward had taught him that he didn't need to be worried about eating. There were all sorts of sneaky ways to get out of sitting for the required thirty minutes, and Edward was the master of them all. The carers trusted them too much, especially when they ate 'normally' for a few days. Harry had been trying too hard and had failed. He'd tried to hide food, and ended up blustering excuses when caught. He'd tried to skip meals, run it off; all to no avail. Abigail no longer trusted him, and he was permanently on the 'naughty' table, being forced to eat cheese sandwiches to make up the required amount of food. Edward's solution was much simpler, and Harry couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it as viable before. Once you had escaped from the Games room, it was 'run out to the gardens and throw up' time. Harry had made himself sick before. But those had been in dire circumstances. It had never occurred to him to do it for _every _meal. Edward said he did it because he just found it too hard to starve; it was easier to binge and be sick than to binge and work it off.

The staff encouraged the growing friendship, feeling that they needed to report _some_ good news back to the respective families of the pair. While Harry had not gone below his entrance weight since coming to Renewal, neither had he reached a healthy one, nor made much progress on his attitudes. Most of 

them were here as training before moving onto St. Mungo's for further studies on becoming Healers and Mediwitches, and had no specialist training in this area. Pepper had had to make do with substandard staff recently, and it was beginning to show – the lengths of time people spent here were increasing. So any news was good news.

Harry was happy. His throat permanently hurt, and his stomach usually felt sore, but he finally had everything under control. When Draco visited with Sebastian, he could muster actual smiles, and he could kiss Draco of his own free will. The look on Draco's face as Harry stood on his tiptoes to press his lips to his fiancé's was priceless. Well, that's what he'd thought, at least, until Edward popped up later offering to sell him photos of said expression for three Galleons each. He'd laughed and stolen them from Edward later on in the day. He was still scared of Draco, and still scared that Oliver would appear out of nowhere and claim his son, but it was getting better. Now that he had control, Harry had everything.


	4. Chapter 4

Maribel, thank you, and I'm glad someone could confirm that I wasn't writing it completely stupidly :) I think that Harry would be one of those obsessive teeth-brushers, the kind that ends up with serious dental problems, so no, Draco wouldn't smell it. And Draco also doesn't know to what extent Harry is worried about Oliver. He thinks Harry has mostly forgotten about him.

Thank you all, once more! Please review this chapter if you have the time; I'd really appreciate it :)

* * *

It was dark, and Harry wanted a drink. His bathroom had been decommissioned as there was something wrong with the taps. Until it was fixed, Harry had to use Edward's, which could also be reached from the corridor. They were the only people down this far, and none of the female residents were allowed down here after eight. Harry thought it was stupid. After all, he was gay, and Edward was… Edward, so there wasn't going to be much going on there. Edward had made it quite clear that he expected a _lot_ from a girl, including being skinnier than him. However, people who were thinner than he was made him jealous, which brought out his violent side. All in all, it was better to just stay friends with the boy, for fear of his wrath if things went sour.

Harry knocked softly on the door, seeing from under the door that the lights were on. He had no desire to walk in on Edward on the toilet, thank you very much. But then, pressing his ear to the door, he heard retching. Going in and closing the door quickly behind him to make sure no one heard, Harry saw his friend leaning over the toilet bowl looking pleased.

"Hey, Edward, are you alright?" The boy grinned up at him. It was an unpleasant sight – the food he'd thrown up clearly visible on his teeth.

"I've never felt better, Harry. I was just testing out this potion I got my friend to send me. Makes everything come back up again in one go." Harry's eyes widened. He'd _never_ heard of something like that. It sounded interesting.

"Wow, how come I've never heard of it before? Something like that… I'd certainly have heard it on the grapevine somewhere."

"Oh, it's experimental. They're still ironing out a few kinks, you see. It's supposed to be for making people who've ingested poison be sick, but it –" Edward broke off, leaning over the toilet again. This time, he sounded pained, and Harry looked on uselessly, gripping his cup tightly in lieu of anything else to do. When Edward stopped heaving again, he sat back against the wall, eyes tight shut. He was breathing harshly, and there was vomit all around his mouth; dripping down the corners.

Harry couldn't stand it any longer. He left his cup by the sink and wet a towel, bending down by his friend to give it to him. Edward reached up a grateful hand and wiped around his mouth, his breathing returning to normal. But when Harry took the towel back, to leave in the dirty basket, his heart stopped.

"Edward… there's blood on this." Edward laughed hoarsely and dragged himself up by the seat of the toilet. Looking in it, he appraised it critically, and then grinned.

"Well so there is. Very astute, Harry. Don't worry; it's just a stupid little side-effect. Only temporary."

"A-are you sure?"

"Course. When have I ever lied to you?" Harry hesitated. Edward _hadn't_, but he sure liked to omit things in an attempt to mess up their minds. But he didn't think his friend would do it to him over something as serious as this. While Edward flushed the toilet, Harry drank the water he'd come for, and then offered some to his friend, who turned it down.

"Nah, they're weighing me tomorrow, and I want to piss them off. Need to be nice and light." He laughed and got off the floor at last, turning the handle to the door that led to his room. "Get off to bed 

now, Harry. You need your beauty sleep!" And then, laughing again, he closed the door, and Harry could hear him getting back into bed. He stood there for a few moments, frozen, unsure of what to do, but came back to himself in time. Edward knew what he was doing. Harry was just there to follow his lead.

* * *

In the morning, Harry went down to breakfast, and ate enough to make Abigail happy and then some. The idea was to eat enough to make her happy, and then eat a bit more so that it looked like he was enjoying the meal. Then, someone would provide a distraction. It was on a cycle so as to not make their carers too suspicious. Suspicion was the dangerous thing. If any of the staff got an inkling that something was wrong; that the isolated incidents were anything but, then they'd all be in deep. So Harry ate, and smiled, knowing that he'd not have to put up with a full stomach for much longer.

"You done?" Abigail asked when he put his fork down.

"Yeah. Sure I can't go to my room…?" Abigail sighed, not even bothering to say anything. Harry just said it for her reaction these days. She still thought he was being serious when he asked.

"Nope, Games room for you. Off you go now, I need food too!" When Harry entered, Camilla nodded at him, and flicked her eyes towards Edward. Ah, so the king of drama would be having a chance to flex his acting muscles today. Edward's distractions were truly a spectacle, and Harry looked forward to what he would do this time. As if by magic, Edward began his distraction just as Harry thought this. A pained look came across his face, and he clutched at his chest, wincing slightly. Harry would have to commend him on his realistic expressions later.

"Edward, are you okay?" A carer, Harry still didn't know her name, came up to him and rubbed his back.

"Yeah, I think so, heartburn or something." He pretended to be okay again, but doubled over mere seconds later, a hissing noise emanating from his mouth. He was breathing heavily and his brow was furrowed as he made the 'effort' not to be sick. Harry took his chance to leave as everyone began fussing, and he saw Camilla do the same. They both went in different directions, so as to avoid both of them being caught sneaking out together, and Harry purged his meal quickly, hoping to get back before Edward's little display was over.

When he got back, a grin on his face to indicate his success, the room was chaos. There was vomit on the floor, and all the residents of the room were pressed up against the walls, some openly crying. Harry stared, confused at the scene. They knew it wasn't real, so why were they all acting like this? As if Edward was _actually_ dying? Like magnetism, Harry's eyes were drawn to the centre of the room, where there were… Healers… rushing out of the Floo, straight towards Edward, who was spasming on the floor. As Harry watched, Edward went rigid, and the Healers went into frenzy, casting left, right and centre at him.

"Rennervate!"

"Petrificus Totalus!"

"Levicorpus!" Harry could only watch in horror as they levitated the now corpse-like body of his friend through the Floo, evidently to St. Mungo's.

When Edward was gone, and the carpet was being scourgified to get rid of the evidence of what had just occurred, Harry and the girls were left there, shell-shocked, some with a sour taste in the back of their throats because they hadn't had time to brush their teeth. Harry thought back to yesterday, to when he'd seen Edward in the bathroom, coughing up blood. It surely hadn't been from the potion, had it? The experimental one… But what else could it be? It wasn't dangerous to make yourself sick, so it had to have been that… Harry didn't know what to do or say, and slowly, he slid down the wall, staring at the Floo where his friend had disappeared. The grim faces of the carers told him that something bad was about to happen. They were herded into the meeting room, where Pepper was waiting, her face the picture of anger.

"Sit down." They complied, scared of what would happen if they didn't. None of them had _ever_ seen Pepper this furious before. Harry drew his legs up onto the seat and hugged them, still reeling from what had just happened. Camilla sat beside him and reached for his hand, squeezing tightly. He gave her a grateful smile, and then turned back to the owner of the hospital.

"I've been monitoring the situation here, and I have to say that you are, by far, the most _despicable _group to have ever lived in this hospital. Never have I seen children with such an aversion to getting better, to getting out of here. You are wasting my time, my staff's time, and your families' money.

"Do you know how long the waiting list for this place can be? That there are people who want to come here of their _own free will_?" Harry dropped his eyes, unable to look at Pepper any longer. She went on in the same spiel for a while, and then listed the benefits they would no longer have, like personal time, and their own bathrooms. The doors would be sealed off completely, and they would all have to share one. First, Harry was shocked, and then Harry got angry. She didn't know _anything_. What they were doing wasn't dangerous; it was _normal. _He just didn't understand why they couldn't see this. He fumed silently, deciding to block out the rest of her speech. Well, that was until he heard his name called out.

"Harry Potter, Camilla Lockwood, Ashleigh Disinter and Jade Gregory. Stay behind. The rest of you, leave, and I hope you will all come to your senses soon." Harry looked at the others, wondering what she could possibly want. They stood up, and went over to her, standing awkwardly.

"I am very disappointed in you four. While you may have thought you were being clever, please note that there are surveillance spells in every room but the bathrooms. Harry, I have seen you throw food out of windows given half the chance, and Ashleigh, you have probably stuffed enough food in napkins to feed a small country. However, I left you – I thought you may all get better with time. I was wrong. Today, the four of you snuck out of the room while Edward Miller had a heart attack." Harry felt _his_ heart stop. Edward had had a… heart attack? But, he was too young…

"I am under no illusions as to what it was you went to do, and I am disgusted. You will all have sessions, with me, where you will talk about your reasoning behind damaging your bodies like this. The four of you will also eat each and every meal with _me._ I will not tolerate this from you any longer. Please leave my sight." And so they did, trailing out instinctively in single file, all four of them trapped in their own thoughts, Harry especially. They dared not talk. What they'd done hadn't been so bad, had it?

* * *

It was two weeks later, and Harry was visiting Edward in St. Mungo's. He'd… done a lot of thinking, and been shown a lot, and he was starting to see that maybe, just maybe, everyone was right. He, and the others, were destroying themselves from the inside out. He'd seen pictures of some people who'd gone to Renewal and fallen right back into the same traps, and they'd not been lucky enough to make it a second time. Harry had never wanted to die. He might have felt like it at times, but he'd never really wanted to off himself, no matter how bad it had got. He'd found out about all the problems he was probably going to have as he grew older, how his heart could have given out any time he decided to stick his fingers down his throat. But despite being told, and shown, all these things; it just wasn't sinking in. He still didn't _get_ it. Pepper had suggested a trip to see Edward, so here he was.

Edward was lying in a bed, very still, when Harry entered the room. He'd brought a picture that he'd painted during one of his 'reflectional' times, hoping that it would help to brighten up Edward's room. It seemed that his well-wishers felt the same way, as his room was full to bursting of colour. Harry leant the frame on Edward's bed, and then walked up to where his friend lay still. When Edward saw him, he smiled, and a trickle of blood came out of his lip. His lips were so dry, and Harry could see that they were sore, but Edward didn't seem to mind.

"Hey. How are you?" Harry asked, softly. He could see it for himself. Edward was pale, blending in with his white sheets easily. His dark brown hair was the only colour on the bed, and it seemed lifeless; limp.

"Never better." Edward answered; his breath hoarse. Harry snorted softly. Yeah, he could see that.

"Do you… want a glass of water? Your lips look dry and you sound like you need it." Edward gave him a _look_ and Harry was glad the there were no heavy objects in easy reach, or he'd surely have had something thrown at him. In a second, though, the expression had passed from his face, and he was smiling again.

"Nah. I'm on a hunger strike. They'll come in a bit to shove some food down me, but I'm ready for that. And they've got this stupid muggle contraption in me as well. Like a piece of plastic with water going down it is going to cure me." He laughed, expecting Harry to join him. All Harry could manage was a half-hearted chuckle. Edward didn't seem to notice, lost in his own world, but Harry was beginning to feel uncomfortable. When he'd been in the hospital, pregnant with Sebastian, had _he_ been like this? Uncaring of his body, of his life?

"They found out about the potion, Edward." The boy's eyes widened, but he quickly got over his shock.

"Yeah, well, they'll never find out who gave it to me, so whatever." Harry pressed on.

"They said it was _illegal_, Edward. You could get into a lot of trouble…" Now it was Edward's turn to snort.

"Not if I'm dead first." Harry froze, and then laughed, a high pitched, nervous laugh.

"Come on, mate, don't joke around." Edward gave him a look that could freeze fire.

"Why would I joke? If I get out of here, all they're going to do is make me fat again. I'd rather die. I know _you've_ fallen for their traps, getting a bit pudgy again, I see, but this _is_ my life. I haven't got anything else." There was silence between the two of them, as Harry tried not to scream.

"What about your family? Don't you think they'll miss you?"

"I don't care. We can't all live our lives for someone else," Edward said, pointedly. Harry got up, his face stony.

"My son is my life, Edward, and there's nothing wrong with that. Maybe you just need to find someone in your life that you love enough to stop being so _selfish_." He left, not even looking back, his resolve set. He wasn't going to end up like that. As he closed the door behind him, Harry heard the sound of a jug crashing on the floor, and Edward's frustrated screams. Harry squeezed his eyes tight shut. No, he was better than that. He would never allow himself to be that pathetic again.


	5. Chapter 5

Maribel – Thanks so much for your review. Yes, Harry's strong, and he'll weather this storm. There's more to come with Oliver, so unfortunately, Harry will have to be on his guard…

Sorry about the slight lateness of this chapter. I had half of it written and then gave up somewhere in Harry and Draco scene, while the one that follows was done in half an hour! Please review, I appreciate every one, and enjoy!

* * *

Harry nervously fluffed his hair, still tufty from the war he'd waged on it recently. It had grown out a little, at least enough that he no longer had bald patches. Draco had been _furious_ when he saw what Harry had done; Harry could still remember it now. He'd lied, of course, saying that his hair had started falling out because of his health, and he'd decided to cut it all off and start again. Draco had been so sympathetic that he hadn't even thought to ask why Harry hadn't simply re-grown it using magic.He'd probably chalked it up to Harry's 'weird muggle upbringing' when he remembered. Either way, Harry had diverted that storm. While he felt bad for not telling the truth, it was infinitely better than what Draco would have done to him had he been honest. Especially since he was supposed to be getting better now.

He coughed lightly, and Draco turned around, his face unreadable. He… didn't have Sebastian with him. Harry started. Draco _never_ came without Seb: there was no point. Harry was skittish around him, and while Draco tried to pretend he didn't know, it was obvious to see. And so, the only visits he made were to make sure that Harry got to see his son as frequently as he wished, which was often. Harry could barely go a day without thinking of his son. Hair had started growing on his hair, and Harry could tell that Sebastian was not going to take after him colour-wise, his hair a sandy-brown. Harry just hoped that he didn't look too much like his other father, if only because he didn't want to have to stare into the face of Oliver Wood every day for the rest of his life.

Draco sat down in a chair abruptly, and Harry followed his lead, waiting for Draco to speak. When the blonde didn't open his mouth, Harry frowned. Why was he here if he wasn't even going to speak? Draco looked troubled, and he got up again, going to the window and looking out.

"Harry. I've been talking to my mother about… things." Harry raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Draco's mother didn't approve of him as far as he knew. She thought him a slut who had trapped her son into marriage through Sebastian. Harry had never done anything to dissuade her of this notion. After all, they _were_ supposed to be pretending that Draco was Sebastian's biological father. Draco turned around to look at him, obviously to reassure himself that Harry hadn't run out on him.

"Anyway. I told her how we have run into difficulties of late, and she suggested that I talk to you without the distraction of Sebastian for one afternoon. She has him." Harry tensed, but only due to the unexpectedness of the statement. 'Grandma' Malfoy had looked after Seb before, and Harry trusted her not to harm him. Draco came back to his seat and sunk into it slowly, seemingly unable to look Draco in the eye.

"Why don't… Why don't you respect me?" If it was possible to, Harry's eyebrow would have rose even further, but as it was, he settled for an incredulous look. Was Draco really willing to listen to Harry drag up all their dirty laundry?

"Why I don't respect you? Why should I? You're not my elder and you're not my better. You treat me like I'm stupid, like none of my opinions matter. You always sound so… _disgusted_ when I tell you I don't understand something about the Wizarding World, but you never help me learn. I've dropped out of school, and you expect me to sit around doing nothing all day like your mother! Except at least she has her parties to go to; I'm not pureblooded enough to go to them. I know you don't like the fact that I 

have muggle in me, but I can't help it, and I wish you wouldn't make me feel like there's something _wrong_ with me, because there's not! There's not…" He trailed off, rubbing his fists into his eyes to stop himself from crying. He was tired of being so emotional all the time. "And… when you hurt me, you didn't even care, and I can't respect someone like that." He took a few deep breaths to calm himself. It had felt good to blow up like that, but he'd probably pay for it now. Maybe if he just stayed still and quiet, then Draco wouldn't… Wait. What was that?

Harry looked up to see Draco with his head in his hands, strands of his fine hair stuck between his fingers. Harry, unable to just sit there with his fiancé in obvious misery, stood up and rested a hand on Draco's shoulder. Draco looked up, his eyes red but dry.

"I can't do this," he said, his voice cracking. "Everyone wants me to be like my father, good and strong, but I can't! I can't even be engaged right. I'm supposed to be handling the family money, but I have no idea what to do with it; in whom to invest it. My mother thinks I'm a failure, I know it. All the rest of the family thinks I'm a disgrace for getting myself into this mess, and I don't know how to deal with them. Seb keeps me up all night, and I don't trust the house elves to look after him. You're sick, _and_ you hate me and I'm trying to get the press to leave us alone, but it's so _hard_ and I just…" Draco inhaled harshly, and was silent. Harry reeled; unable to process all the information he'd been given. He'd never stopped to think what Draco was going through at the moment, because he just hadn't been bothered to find out. He hadn't cared. He was just as guilty as Draco in that respect.

Impulsively, he reached out, wrapping his arms around Draco. The other clung tightly back and they held each other for a moment before letting go again. Draco coughed, trying to pretend that the previous scene hadn't happened.

"And Harry, you do know that I… care deeply for you, don't you?" Harry's eyes widened and he didn't know what to say in response.

"I'm sorry, Draco, but you've not shown that in a long time, and I can't say that I believe you." Draco nodded, resigned.

"I thought as much. Well, it seems like I have a lot to fix, don't I?" He laughed softly to himself, and Harry managed a small smile back though he didn't see any cause for laughter. They talked for a while afterwards, and while they were both stepping out on new ground, Harry felt that they could move on past their issues in time. Together.

* * *

Harry walked into Pepper's office, seeing that the meal was already laid out on the table in front of him. All their mealtimes had been changed so that Pepper could concentrate on one person at a time, and not have to deal with people egging each other on when they were supposed to be concentrating on food. Harry planned on telling her about his visit to Edward earlier that day. Until now, he hadn't really been serious about doing this, but he'd been given a new perspective. He couldn't leave his family behind like this, not when things were finally beginning to look up. There was the dreaded plate; there was the dreaded chair; there was the dreaded woman. Harry sat down across from her and stared at the plate. It all looked like mush to him, even though he knew it was perfectly good food. Pepper was already eating hers, and his lip curled involuntarily as she chewed, her cheeks full. Harry_ never_ took bites that big.

When she finished, her plate and cutlery disappeared, and she stared at Harry from over the desk. He picked up his knife and fork, and began cutting his meal into chunks which he would then eat very slowly. Pepper raised an eyebrow. Usually, she had to yell at Harry for a bit until he would put the fork 

anywhere near his mouth. The fork came up, it hovered near his mouth for a few seconds, and then he put the forkful of what he thought might be chicken into his mouth. There were times when he felt like giving up, just forgetting about his whole 'new leaf' thing, but he carried on, and suddenly, he was eating the last bite, and his plate was _empty_. He looked up in surprise at Pepper, who was clapping quietly.

"Well _done_, Harry." He flushed, not feeling that his gluttony needed any particular praise. He didn't know when the last time he'd finished everything on his plate was. His stomach felt like it was pressing against his jeans again, despite the self-tailoring charm that Draco had had put on them. They would expand with him, so he wouldn't have to buy new clothes every time he went up a size. His breathing quickened despite his telling himself that it was for the best. Just when he felt that his head was going to explode, Harry felt a soothing hand on his back, rubbing softly. Slowly, he felt his breath slow down and stop catching in his throat. Pepper was already back behind her desk.

She looked at him, and Harry looked back.

"What spurred that on, Harry?" She hadn't called him Mr Potter since Edward's accident, and Harry felt that she'd only called him Mr Malfoy in the first place to make Draco feel good.

"Uh, when I visited Edward, he said that he'd do it again, and that he didn't care how it would make his family feel. I could never do that to anyone – do something when I knew it was going to kill me." Pepper scrutinised him for a moment.

"Isn't that exactly what you've been doing? What makes you different from him?" Harry was shocked. Of course he wasn't like that!

"But that's not the same. He was going to do it on _purpose_ after being put in hospital!" Pepper now raised an eyebrow.

"I ask again: what difference does that bear to you? Judging by what I've been told, you gave birth prematurely because of your illness, and after being given a clean bill of health, you went out and did the same thing all over again."

"That's different. I only got better so that I could look after Sebastian. Edward wouldn't get better for anyone."

"And you're lucky in that respect; that you have someone who you care for enough to make things right. Don't assume things about other people. You know nothing about Mr Miller's life." Harry looked away. He didn't, it was true. Edward neatly sidestepped all questions about his family and home life. Harry had always wondered, but never felt it his place to pry.

"Do you truly want to get better, Harry?" He closed his eyes, his throat choking on the words.

"I… don't know. I've lived my whole life like this in some way or another, although I suppose never to the extent that I am now, and I don't know how to do it any other way. When I was small, my family would give me small portions, and I never thought them any different. All I knew was that big people had to eat more and little people had to eat less. At school, I'd have to give half of it to my cousin, and I didn't mind because it was what I was used to. If someone offered to share anything with me, I wouldn't know what to do with it. I got fed the same portions until I was eleven, and I'd always feel guilty sneaking extra food when I was really hungry. It made me feel… I don't know.

Then I got to Hogwarts, and everyone was constantly eating. I _gorged_ myself that first year, and I'd hide it in corners in case someone took it all away from me one day. Ron and the other boys always thought I was weird." Harry chuckled softly. "When the Weasleys asked me to move in with them, I was so glad. But when I got to their house, Molly was delighted, saying I'd put on so much weight since she'd seen me at the platform, and that it was good to see me with some _meat_. I just remember being disgusted, and looking at myself for the first time in front of a mirror that night. I'd eat really small portions, just like in the Dursleys' home, but this time because she was always forcing seconds and thirds on me. I didn't want to end up like Dudley.

And that's pretty much how it was until fourth year, when everything went wrong. My mind just exploded then. I can barely remember some points. All I want is to… be normal. I don't want to have to think about everything I eat. I don't want to throw away half my meal because the idea of eating it makes me want to be sick. I don't want to die before I see Sebastian grow up and have children of his own. I know I've already got a lot of damage, but muggles only live to about a hundred tops, so a lifespan of 'only' one hundred and ten to twenty doesn't really bother me. But I don't want to be fat either. I don't want people to look at me and be able to think that a certain item of clothing makes me look fat. I don't know _what_ I want." The last part was said as if it was a stream of consciousness, and Harry had to take a deep breath at the end. Pepper regarded him closely, and then sat back in her seat.

"Harry, if every session we have is like this, then I think you could be getting out of Renewal sometime in the near rather than the distant future." She smiled at him, her pearly white teeth gleaming in the lights. "Care for some dessert?"


	6. Chapter 6

I am SO sorry for the massive gap in posting. My life has been really hectic recently, and I just had no time. Well, things are about to pick up in the story, and one person guessed my little plot point, which is revealed at the beginning of this chapter. Here's to hoping that there are still interested people! Thanks for all yours reviews, alerts and such. Every bit of feedback is appreciated :D

* * *

There was no disguising it now, Harry thought, looking in the mirror. At first, he had been able to put it down to his body getting generally bigger as he was able to eat more and more. But now, now he couldn't delude himself any longer. It was quite obvious to see that once again, he had managed to get himself pregnant. Harry knew that it was a product of the… incident… with Draco, and he wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that. They were getting better, though. Harry was beginning to look forward to Draco's visits, whether or not he brought Seb with him. And… Harry was beginning to feel like he could trust Draco. Trust him with the small child who Harry had left in his care. Trust him to make the effort to treat Harry right. And maybe… maybe he could trust him with this new baby, a product of the two of them, even if it wasn't in the best circumstances. Resting a hand on his round belly, Harry considered the child that had been with him for about six months now.

A knock on the door made him whirl around, pulling his shirt back down over his stomach and his robes closed. Thank God for those clothing charms, he smiled to himself. If not for them, this confrontation would have come a lot quicker, before Harry had had the opportunity to come to terms with it himself. But he wasn't the fretful and worried person he had been only a few months ago. His body had never had the chance to recover from his strenuous pregnancy; Harry had never given it the nutrients it needed. Now that he was eating properly (and not feeling guilty over it), he was feeling more and more healthy with every day that went past.

"Come in, Draco," The aforementioned opened the door, already talking.

"Oh, Harry, it was amazing! Seb woke up this morning, and I was just tickling his feet, like I do every morning, when he laughed! Just opened his little mouth and let out a little chuckle; I have never been so shocked in my life. But it was great…" Trailing off, Draco smiled indulgently at Harry, coming closer to him. "And you're going to be able to see him at home soon, too." Harry nodded; his throat closing up. He was going home, and whatever he had missed with Seb, he was going to experience with the new baby. It was time to tell Draco. Beckoning his fiancé closer, Harry sat down on the bed, patting the space next to him. When Draco sat down, Harry took his hand and played with the long fingers, not knowing how to begin. The concern on Draco's face as he looked up was enough to get him started, however.

"Draco… that day in December was one of the worst nights of my life." Draco began to speak, but Harry interrupted him. "I have forgiven you for it, although I still cannot quite forget. However, some good has come out of it." Harry took a deep breath, and closed his eyes, smiling. He could sense Draco's confusion, and unable to wait any longer, he placed Draco's cold hand on his stomach, concealed by the heavy robe over it. He only jus t remembered to open his eyes in time to see Draco's reaction. The other's eyes were wide, staring in disbelief at Harry's midriff. Draco pulled his shirt up again and caressed the skin lightly, as if he needed more proof than what his eyes were telling him.

"Harry… how?" Harry laughed softly. He too had asked himself that many times, until he remembered that conversation, seemingly a lifetime ago, with a certain Healer.

"Draco, I am still underage, in case you have forgotten." Draco was speechless, and Harry grinned. He'd never seen his fiancé so lost for words before. It was his turn to be shocked, however, as Draco suddenly took Harry's head between his hands and kissed him full on the lips. Harry was frozen for a few moments. They had not kissed for months, Harry never feeling comfortable enough to do so. But now, now it felt _right,_ and Harry felt himself kissing back. It felt like their first kiss all over again. Not perfect, but good enough for Harry – just right in fact. Harry's eyes stung as he felt them well up with tears. But it was fine, everything was fine. He was going home, and everything was going to be okay.

* * *

A cheer went up as Harry stepped out of the carriage onto the muddy ground in front of the Burrow. Harry, who had been blindfolded the entire journey, turned to Draco and threw his arms around him. He had thought that Draco was bringing him straight back to the Manor, and this was a very nice surprise. While he thought the Manor beautiful, this was where home was: with his family, wherever they might be. And, disentangling himself from his husband-to-be as he raced to the Weasleys, Harry was faced with Hermione, who was holding his small son. She grinned at him and thrust Sebastian forwards, laughing when Harry all but ripped him out of her arms, hugging his son tightly. Harry buried his face in his son's soft hair, listening tearfully to the burbling sounds his son was making as he drooled on his shoulder. He felt Draco come up behind him and embrace the two of them, and noted with pleasure that Draco was resting his hand protectively over Harry's belly.

Everyone went into the house, and Harry was bombarded with hugs and kisses for the next few hours from seemingly every person he knew. His dorm mates were there, as well as Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore, the latter of who gave him a fatherly smile and a knowing wink. Harry's free hand had flown to his stomach. Surely Dumbledore couldn't know…? Well, it seemed he did, and Harry couldn't help but think that he didn't care. He was saved from having to confront his Professor by the fact that he could tell Sebastian was nodding off in his arms. Softly, he cradled his son, taking him to his and Ron's room in the Burrow, where a small crib had been set up. Molly had told him that each and every one of her children had laid in that bed until they had grown too big for it – even Fred and George had shared it. When she had told him, Harry had felt honoured that she would allow him to place his son in a part of Weasley history.

Coming back to the party, Harry could see that it was winding down. His presents were still on the table – some people had brought them round, even though his birthday wasn't for a few days yet. Harry supposed it was because they didn't know when they'd see him again. Harry _did_ plan to spend the rest of the holiday putting his feet up and preparing for the birth of his second child.

After the last guest left, only the Weasleys, Harry and Draco were left behind. They moved towards the kitchen, where Harry saw that the table had been set for dinner. He took a deep breath and shoved his hands into his pockets to stop them trembling. Soon, he felt a cool hand slip itself into his hand and intertwine its fingers with his, and looking up, Harry was met with the face of his fiancé, who was looking on encouragingly. Harry nodded, and swallowed, attempting to work past the lump in his throat. He could do this. This was what all of his therapy sessions had been about. This was the reason he had gone to Renewal in the first place.

Harry took his place at the table, in between his best friend and his boyfriend. He thought it was funny, how they both dwarfed him; as if they were his bodyguards. In a way, they were, shielding him from too many questions as he filled his plate up with food. At one point, he thought Molly was going to say something to him, probably about the amount of food on his plate being substantially smaller than everyone else's, before she thought better, probably realising the effect bringing attention to him would have. As it was, Harry was… coping. It helped that Molly's cooking was delicious enough for him to _want_ to eat it. He still wanted to partition everything on his plate; put aside what he wasn't going to eat at the beginning of the meal; cut up the meat into tiny, unappetising pieces – but he wasn't going to do that. He had placed just enough food for him on his plate, and while he ate slowly and methodically, he did finish everything on his plate. He wasn't even the last!

With a small smile on his face, Harry placed his cutlery on his plate, the emptiness of it making him feel warm inside. Draco squeezed his knee, Ron nudged him in the side with his elbow, giving him a surreptitious thumb up and Molly fair beamed at him from over the mashed potatoes. Harry knew that it wasn't a great feat that he had achieved – after all, people ate meals all the time – but he really felt like his time at Renewal hadn't been a waste of time after all, which he had wondered sometimes in his darker moments. Molly stood up, already moving to the pantry.

"Who wants dessert?" She called from inside, already bringing out a pie that Harry knew she had made especially for the event. He knew it would be healthy – that it wouldn't be that bad to eat some, but Harry didn't think he was ready for seconds or desserts just yet. He was just coming to terms with firsts after all.

He shook his head and Molly frowned, before nodding and distributing slices to all. She brought him a cup of steaming tea instead, which he took gratefully; glad that he wouldn't look like a complete oddity not having Molly's undoubtedly delicious pie. The conversation was mellow, and Harry basked in the warm glow of his family before it was interrupted by unwelcome words.

"Ginny, why aren't you eating your slice? Do you want some cream?" The girl scowled, pushing her plate away, the dessert untouched and going cold.

"Mum, I _told_ you – I can't eat it because I'm – " Molly seemed to sense what her daughter was about to say, as she interrupted with a warning "_Ginny – _" Her daughter seemed to disregard her mother, preferring to continue with what she was about to say. "I'm on a _diet._" Conversation seemed to cease around the table, or at least, that was how it seemed to Harry, whose mug had stopped halfway towards his mouth. Slowly, he put the tea down, his mind blank.

Harry tried to justify it in his mind. Ginny didn't really know about him; why he hadn't been around for so long. But surely, she must have had _some_ inkling… Either way, Harry was beginning to feel like his dinner was going to come back up his throat, ruining everything he'd worked so hard for. Molly was reprimanding her daughter sharply, and the famous Weasley temper was beginning to make an appearance in the youngest member of the family. Harry found himself speaking before he even realised it.

"Ginny, you don't need to diet – you're fine as it is and you know it." He didn't think she had a real problem. After all, she had managed to down a large plateful of her mother's cooking without even a slight struggle. She frowned at him, but Harry stood his ground, looking at her right in the eye.

"It's alright for you, Harry. Just because you're not skinny anymore doesn't mean that everyone else has to stay fat." Harry felt his breath catch in his throat and was unable to reply, all of his old fears coming back up. And _just_ when he was beginning to feel like maybe everything was getting back to normal. He barely registered himself being led away from the table, or Ginny being sent to her room by her father. All he knew was that he felt as if his whole world was crashing down around his ears.

It was when he was in his room that Harry began to come back to himself, noting with detachment that he was hyperventilating. The lights were off, but Harry dimly registered them being switched on, and the sound of Sebastian shuffling around in his cot. His breath was ragged but muffled, and Harry realised that his face was pressed into Draco's shoulder, and that he was soaking the material as he sobbed. Draco rubbed his back soothingly until Harry's tears subsided. When Harry had let out his last hiccup, Draco hugged Harry before pushing him back slightly so Harry was forced to look into Draco's eyes.

"Harry, are you okay? Ginevra was being stupid and I am sure Molly is telling her off as we speak." Harry shook his head.

"She was right though. I'm not skinny anymore; I'm _normal._" Even the idea of it was abhorrent to him. After all, he'd made a point of being skinny his entire life Now that he didn't have that, he wasn't sure what he _did_ have left.

"Harry. Listen to me, because I only want to say this once." Harry listened, and although he wished to turn his gaze away, Draco's stare was magnetic. He nodded once, and Draco took this as his cue to continue.

"You are _wonderful_. I thought it when we first met, I thought it when I first got to know you and I think it now. I thought it when you were skinny, when you were emaciated and now that you're _healthy_. You are not fat. You will never be fat. Now that you're _normal_ as you say, I can look at you; _hold _you without feeling like you're going to break.

"Never think that I don't find you attractive or whatever. Being thin is not an integral part of Harry Potter. You are him even without visible ribs. Harry Potter is the boy who has already brought one beautiful baby into the world, and who is already on number two. You don't know how happy you make me Harry. I know… I know we've had our differences, but I feel like we've moved past that; that we can raise our kids together and do it _well_. Oh please Harry, don't cry." Harry had indeed started to cry again, but this time, the tears were because of his fiancé.

"Draco… You don't understand how much… I just…" Harry could hear the smile in Draco's voice.

"Yes?"

"Draco, I love you." There was silence for a few moments. Not even Sebastian made a noise, as if he could sense the importance of the moment. Then it was as if a dam broke, for Draco was hugging him tightly, and Sebastian was fussing, on the verge of wailing. But it was as if he was hearing the noise from behind a wall. All he _could_ hear was Draco whispering softly in his ear.

"Harry, _I love you too_."


	7. Chapter 7

It's been a while, although not as long as last time! Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! I do have to ask though, if you're going to add me to your favourite authors/have any of my stories as your favourites, could you _please_ leave a review to tell me why? I love seeing what people think :D Here's a slightly longer than usual chapter to make up for the delay!

* * *

A month had gone past before Harry could even blink, and before he knew it, Draco was preparing to go back to Hogwarts. Harry felt… scared. They had spent every day together, attempting to become closer as a family. Draco had felt the baby kick for the first time just a few weeks ago, and the look on his face had been enough to lift Harry's mood for the entire day. It was like they were having a honeymoon period at last, after so many things having gone wrong. Harry had laughed to himself at the thought of their honeymoon coming before they were even married, an event that was still some time off.

There were still two school years left before Draco graduated, but Narcissa was planning everything already. She had said that the sooner they began preparations, the sooner the wedding would come. While she had been the one to insist that despite the children, Draco would _wait_ to be married, Harry could tell that she thought of him as some kind of whore. She seemed to genuinely love Sebastian and, judging by the amount she was spending on the new nursery, she was also keen on the idea of the new baby. Harry had been speechless the first time he stepped inside, and this had seemed to please his future mother-in-law.

He was in the breakfast room with her now, eating pieces of fruit that he had cut up into small, manageable pieces. He had begun to count them, to make sure that it was just enough, and not a chunk more, but had been able to stop himself in time. He didn't have to restrict, not anymore, especially not when he was pregnant. Draco had said indulgently that he was allowed to eat whatever he wanted, as the food would just go towards sustaining the child. And as Draco had added later, it was always better to eat too much than too little when considering a baby. His chest felt tender these days, and Harry noted with some trepidation, that he would have to… _breastfeed_ this time around. The idea of it made him shudder – it was one thing about his disastrous last pregnancy that he hadn't minded. Pushing the disturbing thought away, Harry carried on eating, unwilling to ruin his appetite.

It was then that the owls flew in. Narcissa frowned, and Harry knew she was annoyed by the fact the owls had come while they were still eating. In a way, she was protective over him, although Harry put it down to concern over the baby, and she did not appreciate anyone interrupting his meals. The owls were supposed to come afterwards, when they were having tea in one of the gardens. But now that they were here, Harry felt that he had to attend to them, and passing over Narcissa's letters to her, he set his down by the side of his plate while he finished off the fruit. Narcissa looked approvingly at him and began to tear the envelopes open with the letter-knife. Harry picked up his own, feeling awkward as he ripped open the letters with his own fingers. There was one from Hermione, one from the Healer with whom he had booked an appointment, and… someone he didn't recognise.

Confusedly, Harry pulled out the sheet of parchment and scanned it. It took quite a few re-reads before Harry could accept that he was seeing what he was seeing.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_Your hearing is on the 14__th__ September. You will be before the Wizengamot on charges of endangering the life of a child and attempting to induce a miscarriage. Mr. Oliver Wood has also filed for custody of one Sebastian Malfoy claiming neglect and child abuse. As the biological father of your son, he is within his rights to do so. If the charges prove true, full custody will be awarded to Mr. Wood. It is suggested that you hire a Law Wizard to speak for you._

_Regards,_

_Madam Bones_

Right underneath the signature was the Wizengamot stamp, proving to Harry that this was not some kind of sick joke. His heart was beating madly in his chest, and his ears were ringing loudly. He only came to when Narcissa had called out to him, concerned.

"Harry, what is the matter? Come, let me see this letter." She took it from his hands and scanned it, her eyes darting quickly across the page. The only outward sign of shock she showed was the slight raise of her eyebrows, which lasted for only a second. Harry wasn't even sure he had actually seen it. Desperately, he waited for Narcissa to look up again. Surely she would have some way to fix this. Narcissa was clever, much older than him _and _she had been married to Lucius Malfoy, one of the best Law Wizards around. She would know what to do, wouldn't she?

Narcissa sent him to compose a letter to Oliver while she Flooed her contacts, trying to get someone to take their case and Harry did so promptly with one of the Malfoy owls, Hedwig nowhere in sight. He would have liked to have the comfort of his owl right now, considering Draco and Sebastian were out and he didn't have any way of contacting them. As it was, he was sitting with his back rigid in a soft-backed chair, unable to relax into it. His foot was tapping anxiously against the carpeted floor, and Harry tried to remember what he had written in an attempt to pass the time and prevent his sanity from abandoning him.

_Oliver,_

_Why are you doing this? You're happy with Collette, aren't you? You have your own baby to look after. Why can't you leave us alone? I thought we had agreed to keep this all a secret. Surely you can't want all of your dirty laundry aired like this… __Please, leave us alone,__ I can't cope with you doing this now. Me and Draco and Seb are happy as we are. Seb doesn't need another dad mixed into all of this. Please, if you're just doing this out of revenge, please stop. You don't understand what this is doing to me already, and the trial hasn't even begun. And full custody of Seb? He has a perfectly good loving home already. He doesn't need to be taken away from it._

_Harry_

Before Harry could leap up and leave the room in his agitation, the window opened magically and the Malfoy owl flew back in. It only stayed long enough to drop the letter and was promptly out again, presumably to go back to the Owlery. Harry expected that that meant that Oliver did not want a response. His fingers trembling, Harry fumbled with the official-looking parchment, breaking the wax seal on the back of the envelope with trepidation.

_Mr. Potter,_

_My client wishes not to enter into a correspondence with you. He will see you on the 14__th__ September, where you may state your case. Please note that your letter may be used as evidence in court._

_Good day,_

_Charles Frebenum_

Harry's eyes shut tight as his heart clenched. Merlin, he couldn't deal with this right now. Even the idea of Oliver getting his hands on Sebastian made him sick. It wasn't that he thought Oliver would _hurt_ Sebastian – no, he'd seen how furious the elder had been with him after Seb was born. It was that Harry could no longer imagine a life without his small family. The Weasleys had done well by him thus far, but the special connection he shared with his fiancé and son couldn't be replicated. To have that cruelly torn from him… No, he couldn't, _wouldn't_ think of it.

Harry didn't know how long he sat there for, but he did know that when he looked up again, hearing a knock on the door, the sky outside was dim with evening light. Draco came in, and it was all Harry could do not to throw himself into the Slytherin's arms. Instead, he walked over sedately, and leaned into Draco's shoulder, his round stomach bumping against Draco's hip. He breathed in Draco's scent, hoping that somehow, his fiancé would make everything better again. Draco hugged him tightly and kissed his hair, whispering comforting nothings into Harry's hair.

"Draco, he won't see sense. He wants to take away Seb, and… they're going to try me." Draco sighed.

"I know, Harry. Mother notified me. I came home as quickly as I could. Don't worry, we'll get through this." Harry couldn't keep it in any longer.

"But I'm guilty! They're going to put me in jail and Seb will be taken away from us and he'll never know his real dads…" Harry felt Draco freeze, and he looked up at the Slytherin, hoping to catch his expression. There was a hint of… _something_ that Harry couldn't quite discern.

"You… consider me his father?" Draco asked, hesitantly. Harry's eyes widened.

"Of course I do! You're the one who's looked after him for basically his life so far. If anyone has a claim to him, it's you. I just wish that they'd acknowledge that kind of thing in court."

"Don't worry, Harry. I'll make them see sense. They won't get _our _son." Harry nodded, closing his eyes again. Yes, Draco would make things right again.

* * *

'_Is Our Golden Boy Tarnished?'_ read the headline of the _Daily Prophet_ the following day. A picture of a scrawny looking Harry (it must have been from months back then) holding his infant son sat under the heading. As the real Harry watched, picture Harry ducked out of view into a shop, clutching Sebastian tightly to his chest. He sighed. He had hoped that the trial would stay secret until it had at least begun, but no such luck. Well, at least there seemed to be no details about the trial itself, just that it appeared that the Boy-Who-Lived wasn't so perfect after all.

Harry didn't mind. It was better than what _Teen Witch Weekly_ had done at any rate. Apparently, for about the last year, they'd been tracking him (along with other teenage celebrities). Harry had been appalled when he found out – did they know nothing about privacy? Because the readership of the magazine was so small (it was aimed at teenage girls, but they preferred the more mature _Witch Weekly_) they had resorted to dirty tactics to up their audience. The worrying thing was, they had done a spread of him over the past year, and seemed to have picked up on his constantly changing weight.

Draco had said he didn't want him to look at the pictures, in case it triggered him, but Harry had managed to see a few of him in what looked like January. He was a _skeleton_. It was surprising that he had managed to last that long in his opinion. Draco did allow him to see one picture however, and Harry had been nervous when he saw the obvious (to him and Draco) bump peeking through his robes. The magazine didn't seem to have spotted that, however. All for the better, really – the longer they could hide it the better. Harry wasn't particularly looking forward to the media storm once they found out.

Holding a hand over his stomach protectively, Harry stood up from the breakfast table, excusing himself to Narcissa. She smiled faintly at him and waved him off. With this dismissal, Harry made his way to Draco's study, from where he would be travelling to the Weasleys to finally tell them the good news before meeting Draco at St. Mungo's for his appointment. Harry was incredibly excited – he was eager to find out the sex of the child, wanting everything to be perfect in the nursery. Both he and Narcissa were firm believers in colour-coding by gender. Harry had a feeling as the sex of the baby, but wasn't entirely sure. You never could be, could you?

Throwing Floo powder into the fireplace, Harry shouted out his destination. The twirling around made him feel a little nauseous, but that was better than how travelling by the Knight Bus or side-along would make him feel. The idea of the sensation of being squeezed through a tight tube made him want to be sick. Obviously, it wasn't particularly good for the baby either, and Harry was determined to do right by his child this time around. Coming out in the kitchen of the Burrow, Harry spotted Ginny sitting there with a large bowl of ice cream that she seemed to be enjoying quite thoroughly. Concealing a smirk, and not wanting to cause a fight, Harry coughed slightly. Ginny all but scurried from the room, calling for her mother as she went. Ever since she had been made to apologise to him, after hearing the whole story, she had been as meek as a mouse around him.

Molly sat him down at the table and pushed a mug of hot chocolate in front of him with Arthur not far behind her. Smiling, they sat across from him. Harry grasped the mug firmly, happy to see that it was the one he had decorated his first Christmas here. He took a small sip from the warm drink (Molly was very good about never giving him anything too hot) and looked down, unsure how to start. But, he had to, didn't he? The Weasleys had looked after him as best as they could and he owed it to them to keep them updated on his life.

"Mr Weasley… Mrs Weasley…" He took a deep breath, not daring to look up. "I have something to tell you." He dared a look up to see his surrogate parents exchange a worried look.

"Harry, if there's anything wrong–" Harry interrupted quickly, not wanting them to go down that road. "No, everything's good! Better than good actually. I've already told this to Narcissa and Draco, but I wanted to make sure that everything would be okay before I started telling other people. I'm going for a check-up today, but…" he paused, and then pushed on – "I'm pregnant again." He heard the gasp of shock from Molly, and froze, his heart beating nervously. What would she say?

"And… things are alright this time? You're not sick?" Arthur asked him while he collected his wits about him. Harry gave him a grateful smile. They were always thinking of him. Molly had stood up and was currently making her way over to him, where Harry was sure she'd give him the hug of his life. He wasn't disappointed and Molly cried, muttering things Harry couldn't quite discern. When she'd calmed herself down, and was back in her seat, she spoke, haltingly.

"Harry, please tell me. You _did_ want this baby, didn't you? I hope Draco didn't pressure you into this." Harry was confused. How would Draco _make_ him have a baby? The confusion must have shown clearly on his face, as Arthur carried on.

"In all these traditional pureblood families, you generally want at least two children – one being the heir, and one being the… spare, so to speak," Harry's eyes widened, and Arthur hastened to add "Not that I'm saying that's what Draco had in mind, but…" Evidently, that _was_ what he was saying, and Harry smiled.

"Don't worry. Draco and I want to have as many children as we can," although Draco didn't know this yet. _He_ was of the opinion that Harry was far too delicate. "And it's easier at this point in my life, isn't it? I'm guaranteed to become pregnant, and I already have one child. Having another won't make much difference." Molly seemed to frown at this, but Harry suspected it was because she had had to raise all of her children herself, whereas Harry had the support of both his mother-in-law and the Malfoy house elves.

They talked for some time, but eventually, looking up at the Weasley clock, Harry saw his name pointing to 'Late' on the face. Hurriedly, he once again threw Floo powder into the fireplace and this time, came out in the foyer of St. Mungo's. The receptionist showed him to the room where he was to have his examination and he grinned when he saw that Draco was already there. He received a kiss as his welcome, and on the directions of the Healer, changed into the hospital gown behind a screen (aided by Draco, of course). Harry was both excited and nervous, having never experienced this before. The Healer was nice enough though, making sure that he felt comfortable.

"Good afternoon, Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy. My name is Healer Winters, and I will be looking over you today. Firstly, have you noticed any female parts developing?" Harry blushed and spared a quick glance towards Draco, who looked just as embarrassed as he.

"Um, yes. I have br-breasts and there's a… a _thing_…" Harry's throat closed up and he was unable to go any further, so totally mortified was he. Boys were not _ever_ supposed to have to talk about these things. Winters seemed to take pity on him though, as she brought out a chart that made Harry's ears burn and Draco cough and look away. The pictures illustrated the development of the birth canal and it looked like Harry was in the third of five preliminary stages. The last five wouldn't happen until he was giving birth. Harry was glad that he'd never have to see part of _himself_ look as grotesque as that. However, casting a sympathetic look towards his fiancé, he was the lucky one. Draco had gone mildly green. _Well,_ Harry thought, _better you than me_.


End file.
